


b is for best friends

by amfiguree



Series: The BFF AU [4]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amfiguree/pseuds/amfiguree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cook has his priorities straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	b is for best friends

It's already close to midnight, and David's curled up on his bed, hugging a huge bowl of popcorn to his chest. The opening credits to Casablanca are already rolling across his tv screen when he hears a muffled, "ow, fucking shit--" outside his window (which makes David wince and grin a little at the same time), and then Cook tumbles through it a second later.

"Fuck," Cook repeats (and David cringes again), from where he's all, like, tangled up in his own limbs on the floor. "How the fuck does Joey Potter make this look so easy?"

"Um," David says. "Hi Cook." He bites the inside of his cheek really, really hard so he doesn't bust up laughing. "You're kind of late?"

"Yeah," Cook says, grinning. It's sort of... sheepish? Which is the first sign that something is totally off, because Cook is a lot of things, but easily embarrassed isn't really one of them. Cook hops to his feet, then, and throws himself onto the bed (which, okay, David is kind of used to, but he only narrowly manages to save the popcorn and the remote control from flying off the mattress).

"Cook," David sighs, even though they both know that he, like, totally doesn't care when it comes to Cook. Cook could probably do something crazy like, um, like steal a baby's candy, and David would still let him get away with it. Sometimes David worries that Cook makes him a really terrible Mormon.

"Sorry," Cook says, only he obviously doesn't mean it. David sighs again, but he pets Cook's hair without protesting when Cook puts his head in his lap. Cook grins up at him, and David can't help sort of grinning back. "So I, uh," Cook says. "I went out with Melissa tonight."

David is winded for a second. And, oh my gosh, his stomach is starting to do this weird little tumble; maybe the popcorn wasn't such a great idea. He pushes the bowl aside and hits the pause button on the remote. "Oh," he says. "How - um...?"

"It was great, man," Cook says, turning a little so he's facing the ceiling. "She's, you know, she's the way she is in school. Sweet and funny and really, really nice. And she loves reading, can you beat that? She totally blew me away."

"Yay," David says, obligingly.

"I know, right?" Cook is practically beaming. "Who knew cheerleaders would like picking up more than pom-poms?" 

And then he's off talking about their, um - their date, things like how she looked, and what she was wearing, and which movie they watched, and what they talked about, and how he held her hand outside the theater, after, and how he had a really, really good time. David doesn't really say much, but that's not - that's kind of the norm, anyway, and usually, um, usually Cook not needing any prompting is a good thing (plus he's a really good storyteller, so David always has fun listening to him) but tonight--

Tonight, David's stomach is all, whatever, twisting up and clenching and burning and - he's just, he's not feeling well enough to concentrate.

He's totally going to say so, and also maybe to tell Cook that maybe he shouldn't spend the night after all, because if David's sick he doesn't want to pass anything to him, but then Cook says, a little wistfully, "I wouldn't have run late if she wasn't so awesome, man. I mean, I've got my priorities straight. You know that, right?"

And that - it's totally stupid, but David feels the heat spring up his neck anyway, because - because Cook totally blew Melissa off for movie night (which, hi, even David knows is pretty lame since they're both already sixteen - seventeen in a couple of months!), and that's sort of, um. David inhales, sharply, stomach settling, and he hides a little smile as he hugs the popcorn close again. It makes his chest feel all, like, warm and toasty. He loves popcorn.

"I know," he says, finally, and gives Cook's fringe a final pat. "Do you want some popcorn?" he offers, trying to sound cheerful and maybe teasing instead of all, like, strange and fuzzy. "Or did you have too much when you were out on your - um. When you, before you came over." Still, his voice comes out a little weird, sort of an octave too high, maybe?

But Cook doesn't really seem to notice. Instead, he grabs a handful of popcorn (some of it even spills onto David's lap, sigh) and rolls his eyes. "Shut up and play the movie, Archuleta," he demands. "Or I'm gonna tell your mom about the fact that you were in detention twice last week."

"Oh my gosh!" David yelps, and he totally doesn't care when he upsets the food by throwing his pillow in Cook's face, the weirdness already forgotten. "Shut up, that was totally your fault!"

 

Melissa and Cook stop seeing each other a couple of months later, and David doesn't feel too guilty for being, um, kind of glad when Cook tells him about it. It's - he doesn't not like Melissa, but... Cook's always been really, really clear about what (and, um, who?) his priorities are.


End file.
